Photographs and Memories
by Kessie-Ciel
Summary: Grissom remembers his past.
1. Memories That Come At Night

Photographs and Memories  
By Somewherethatsgreen  
Somewherethatsgreen@yahoo.com  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: Not really. Sort of a reference to "Gentle, Gentle" though.  
Permission to archive: Sure, just let me know.  
Summary and author's notes: Grissom remembers his past. The title comes from a Jim Croche song. This is a songfic. I actually had the story mostly written out when I found the song, and decided that it really fit with the story. The song is "Photographs and Memories" by Jim Croche, except for the segment from "All Through the Night." BTW, I'd like to apologize to the People for the Ethical Treatment of Grissom. Hey, at least I don't kill him this time. Okay, I've rambled enough. On with the story.  
  
Chapter 1 ~ Memories That Come At Night  
It was a sleepless night for Gil. He had hoped to get some rest on his night off, but it wasn't to be.  
He had tried to put the memories behind him years ago, but they simply wouldn't let him be. He had gradually come to realize that there was nothing he could do to drive them away.  
Slowly, almost painfully, he got out of bed. Finding his bathrobe on the chair by his bed, he pulled it on. He went to his closet, reached up to the top shelf, and retrieved an unmarked shoebox. He went to the kitchen, turned on the lamp on the table, and set the box down in its glow. After brewing a cup of tea, he sat down with the box and let the memories come back.  
The box was filled with photographs. They were old and faded, and some were in worse shape than others, but they were all that remained of a life that had passed long ago.  
  
***  
Photographs and memories  
Christmas cards you sent to me  
All that I have are these  
To remember you   
  
Memories that come at night  
Take me to another time  
Back to a happier day  
When I called you mine   
***  
  
The first picture was of a beautiful young girl. Christine was 18 when the picture was taken. She had golden hair and eyes that were a striking indigo; Eyes say so much about a person, and in all these years Gil had yet to meet another individual with eyes the color of Christine's. She wasn't alone; beside her stood a young man with brown hair and blue eyes. Gil hardly recognized himself now. She was happy in this picture, smiling, standing at the rail on the boardwalk. When Christine smiled, it was almost always out of true happiness, and she smiled often. They had both been happy then. He remembered the day that he asked her to marry him…  
  
"Christine, I have something to ask you…" He had planned a whole speech about how he loved her and how he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her. Now, however, he had forgotten everything. Instead he simply withdrew the small box from the pocket of his coat, watching her eyes widen as he opened it, revealing the diamond ring inside. He had lost his voice. "Will you…?"  
He never got to finish the question. "Oh Gil, yes!" Christine threw her arms around his neck. "I will!"  
They made plans to get married after college. Christine was going to art school, and Gil had plans for his career in forensics. The schools they attended were nearly two hours apart, but they were both able to return home to see each other on weekends. Still, they missed each other greatly, and they made the most of every moment they had together. Despite their separation, Gil and Christine only grew closer during that time, eagerly making plans for a future together.  
  
***  
But we sure had a good time  
When we started way back when  
Morning walks and bedroom talks  
Oh how I loved you then   
*** 


	2. How I Loved You Then

Chapter 2 ~ How I Loved You Then  
Gil was looking at another picture now, a candid photo of Christine and her sister trimming the Christmas tree. That Christmas, he remembered, was a special one. That Christmas Eve was their first night together. That one night altered the course of their lives.  
  
Christine sounded upset over the phone that January afternoon. Gil could tell that she had been crying… something had to be very wrong.  
"Gil, I'm pregnant."  
He couldn't speak. Finally, Christine asked, "Gil, are you still there?"  
"I'm here," he said.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen…"  
"I know. Neither of us did. But we'll be okay, Christine. We'll get married, I'll get a job, I'll take care of you and the baby, I promise. It will be okay… I promise."  
He couldn't promise that, and they both knew it, but the words were comforting. "I know you will, Gil. I trust you."  
They were married in a small, private ceremony in their hometown; by that time Christine was three months pregnant. Gil continued to attend college, taking part time jobs on the weekends to pay for the one-bedroom apartment they rented. Christine also went to school until her sixth month, when the pregnancy finally forced her to stay home. Thankfully, she had no complications, and if she had any fears or doubts, she never let them show. She even talked about having more children, once they were through with school and could support a large family.  
Christine's labor was long and difficult. Gil stayed with her, holding her hand and wishing he could work some sort of magic to take away her pain. After nearly 24 hours, Julian Grissom took his first breath. There was no greater moment in Gil's life than when he held his beautiful son in his arms for the first time.  
  
Gil held two pictures in his hands. The first was of Christine, eight months pregnant and smiling radiantly, thrilled to be carrying Gil's child. He remembered how happy she had been, and how she dreamed of having a big family. The second picture was of Julian at the age of six months.  
  
Like his mother, Julian was always smiling. If he ever was sad, all he needed was to hear his father's voice. He adored Gil, and if nothing else would make him stop crying, a lullaby from his daddy would make him brighten instantly. Gil never sang much, but he loved to sing to Julian.  
*Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee,  
All through the night,  
Guardian angels God will lend thee,  
All through the night,  
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,  
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,  
I my loving vigil keeping,  
All through the night…*  
That was Gil's favorite lullaby, because it told his son that he was safe, as long as his father was near. How was Gil to know that there would come a day when he couldn't protect him?  
  
***  
Summer skies and lullabies  
Nights we couldn't say good-bye  
And of all of the things that we knew  
Not a dream survived   
*** 


	3. Not A Dream Survived

Author's note: No lyrics in this chapter, that's just how it turned out.  
  
Chapter 3 ~ Not A Dream Survived  
Their world was shattered the night of Julian's second birthday. They went out to eat at a family restaurant not far from their home. They drove back in the dark along a nearly empty stretch of road, with Julian sleeping soundly in the back seat. Gil was driving while he and Christine talked in quiet voices so as not to wake their son.  
Suddenly, a bright light swept across the dashboard and back again, nearly blinding Gil. Looking in his rearview mirror, he realized that the erratically moving lights behind them were the headlights of a car that was swerving back and forth across the road. Christine twisted in her seat to look out the back window.  
"Oh my God… Gil, do you think he's drunk?"  
The thought of being on the road with a drunk driver frightened both of them. Gil feared that Christine was right.  
"There's a gas station just up the road," he said. "I'll pull off there and call the police." He wanted to stay calm for Christine, but inside he was terrified.  
"Hurry, Gil," she begged. Julian was still asleep, oblivious to the chaos around him.  
All of a sudden, the car behind them began to speed up. There was a sickening scraping sound and a jolt as the bumpers touched. Christine screamed, finally awakening Julian, who began to cry. In a split second, even before Gil could react, the car collided with theirs with a horrific crash. After that, Gil remembered nothing.  
Gil opened his eyes to a sterile white hospital room and a stout, balding middle-aged doctor with spectacles.  
"Hello, Gil. I'm Dr. Parsons. You sustained a severe concussion and some broken ribs in the accident. We'd like to keep you overnight for observation. We've given you a morphine drip to help with the pain." Gil didn't care about his own injuries. He asked, "Where's my wife, Christine?"  
"Her injuries were more severe; broken ribs and a concussion, a broken leg and a broken arm. The leg will require surgery. You were both fortunate to survive."  
"Broken ribs, a concussion and a broken arm is hardly good fortune," thought Gil. "If that drunk asshole hadn't been on the road in the first place this never would have happened."  
"What about my son? Julian Grissom?"  
The doctor frowned. "He was seen by another doctor. I'll see if I can find him for you."  
"Thank you." The doctor left the room, and Gil was alone. The morphine seemed to be working; he wasn't in any pain. That freed up his mind to worry about his family. He hoped the driver had been caught. He hadn't thought to ask about him.  
Dr. Parsons was in the hallway now, talking with another doctor, presumably the one who had treated Julian. The second doctor was taller, thinner, and appeared to be younger. He couldn't make out their words; he could only tell that they were deliberately talking softly to keep him from hearing. He felt like a little boy, not hearing what his parents were talking about, only knowing that it was about him.  
The two doctors entered the room. Dr. Parsons stood in the background while the other man pulled up a stool next to Gil's bed.  
"Mr. Grissom, I'm Dr. King. I saw your son when he came in. His injuries were very severe…"  
"…No!" Gil's mind screamed. "God, no…"  
"…I'm afraid there was nothing we could do to save him."  
Gil drew in a breath, shut his eyes, and sincerely wished to die. It couldn't be true. This was someone else's baby, not his Julian.  
He remained speechless for a time. Finally he murmured, "Does my wife know?"  
"She's in surgery right now. Would you like me to tell her?" Gil nodded. Right now he just wanted to be alone.  
"Why did this happen?" he thought. "It's not fair. It was his birthday, he was only two… it's not fair. It should have been me. Why couldn't I have died instead?" Those thoughts continued to plague him, until he finally fell into a fitful sleep.  
He saw Christine the next morning. By then, she had been told the news. There was nothing to say, and nothing to do but hold her close while she sobbed.  
From that day forward, their lives were never the same again.  
  
Gil unfolded the yellowed newspaper clipping he'd taken from among the photographs. "Local Child Dies In Drunk Driving Accident."  
"Julian Grissom, aged two, was the only fatality in a car accident that occurred on route 9 last night when his family's car was struck by a drunk driver…"  
Even after all these years, it was still impossible to believe. Each time he read that article, he had to let it sink in all over again that this was his child, his family, this had happened to him. The clipping blurred as tears filled his eyes, streaming down his face. 


	4. All I've Left Of You

Chapter 4 ~ All I've Left Of You  
The other driver, as they had suspected, had been intoxicated. He was jailed and a trial scheduled, and Gil and Christine prepared to testify against him. However, they would never have the chance; the man posted bail and skipped town. They had already been devastated by their son's senseless death, and the lack of justice was like salt in the wound.  
Both Gil and Christine struggled with survivor guilt. Gil had never wanted children, but Julian had stolen his heart when he first saw him, and to be alive while his son was dead was almost more than he could bear. Somehow, however, they were unable to talk about their mutual loss. After the death of Julian, it became harder for them to connect with each other. Within six months, communication between them had all but stopped completely. One night, Gil found Christine crying in the bedroom.  
"It's over, Gil."  
He said nothing.  
"I tried to hang onto what we had… before all this. I just can't do it anymore, Gil. I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, I just…"  
"You just don't love me anymore." It sounded far more accusing than he had intended. She looked hurt, but in her eyes he could see that he was right.  
"I know this has been hard," he said. "Maybe you're right. Maybe… we just weren't meant to be."  
"I want to love you, Gil. I just… can't. Can you understand that?"  
Again, he didn't respond.  
"Gil, every time I look in your eyes, I see Julian."  
He understood. It broke his heart to admit it, but he was the cause of Christine's pain. It was time to accept that their relationship could never be mended.  
A month later, they signed the divorce papers. "How did we come to this?" thought Gil. "We were so in love, how did we ever lose sight of that?" He was sure that Christine was thinking the same thing.  
With the papers signed, they prepared to go their separate ways. He took her right hand softly in both of his. "Take care of yourself, Christine."  
"You too."  
He wanted to hug her, but she pulled her hand away suddenly, as though his touch were painful, and without another word, left him.  
He never saw her again.  
  
Gil slowly picked up the pictures from the table, putting them all back into the box. He paused when he picked up the first picture of Christine on the boardwalk, smiling, her golden hair blowing in the wind. That was a perfect time. That was long before the pain.  
He put her picture back into the box. "Where are you now, Christine?" he thought. "Did you marry again? Do you have a new family, a new life?" He hoped she did. He wanted Christine to be happy.  
  
***  
Photographs and memories  
All the love you gave to me  
Somehow it just can't be true  
That's all I've left of you   
  
But we sure had a good time  
When we started way back when  
Morning walks and bedroom talks  
Oh how I loved you then   
***  
  
He thought of Julian. He would be a man now, maybe even have a wife and children of his own. The pain of the loss had never gone away, and the wound was reopened whenever he had to investigate the death of a young child. No child should die needlessly like Julian did. Every time he looked upon another tiny body, another innocent life taken away, it was like losing Julian again.  
Gil wiped his tears away. He hated crying, hated feeling this way. He made his way back to his room. When he had put the box back in its place, he reached up into the darkness beside it until he found what he was looking for. It was an old blue knit blanket, dingy from years of disuse. He unwrapped the bundle, revealing an old brown teddy bear. The toy had seen better days; the fur was matted down in some places, falling out in others. He cradled it in his arms like a baby… like he used to hold Julian. He gazed into the shiny black eyes, as though there was something there, some kind of life. He hugged the bear tightly to his chest, closing his eyes, remembering when he first held Julian. For a moment, he was back in California, in the delivery room, holding his newborn son, re-living the most wonderful feeling of his life.  
Then, he remembered that it wasn't real.  
He put the bear back in his closet. He resolved to call his travel agent first thing in the morning. There was something he needed to do.  
  
Everyone at the lab knew better than to ask what Gil was up to when he announced that he was going to California for a few days on "personal business."  
He had to look up the cemetery in the phone directory, it had been so long, but once he got there, he remembered where the grave was. In the back row, he found the flat marble marker that read, "Julian Grissom." When he found it, he was surprised to see a fresh rose lying across the stone… someone had just been here.  
Just as he was leaving the white carnations he had brought, he was startled by a voice behind him. "Gil?"  
He atood up, and turned to see who was there. Before him stood a woman, middle-aged, with golden hair and indigo eyes.  
"Christine…"  
  
End.  
  
Author's Note: I might write some spin-off stories from this one, about what happens after Gil and Christine are reunited. Currently I'm also working on a (non-graphic, PG-13) Sara slash. 


End file.
